


i'll carry you 'til you carry on

by Mayarene Rose (Paradise_of_Mary_Jane)



Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Titans (Comics)
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18450140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Mayarene%20Rose
Summary: It’s past noon and Dick still can’t bring himself to get out of bed and into the living room. He’s cocooned in the covers, not quite shivering from a non-existent cold but not quite warm, either. He’s been awake for a few hours already but the thought of even attempting to lift his head from his pillow is exhausting. It’s getting bad.Not the worst he’s been but slowly getting there. He knows someone’s about to come bursting through the door soon. Someone always comes through the door. The Titans have a sixth sense for days like this. They never seem to hold it against him, no matter how much he thinks they should.





	i'll carry you 'til you carry on

It’s past noon and Dick still can’t bring himself to get out of bed and into the living room. He’s cocooned in the covers, not quite shivering from a non-existent cold but not quite warm, either. He’s been awake for a few hours already but the thought of even attempting to lift his head from his pillow is exhausting. It’s getting bad. 

Not the worst he’s been but slowly getting there. He knows someone’s about to come bursting through the door soon. Someone always comes through the door. The Titans have a sixth sense for days like this. They never seem to hold it against him, no matter how much he thinks they should.

Dick hasn’t had days like these lately. He’s had a lot of them over the years, especially when he was young and angry and had a lot to prove, and then again when Bruce died and the entire of Gotham decided to fall apart every other hour. He hasn’t had one in a while, though, now that things have settled down. It catches him by surprise, somehow. Dick knows it shouldn’t. He’s had a lot of them over the years. He’s functioned on patrols on days like this, led the Titans, held himself together crisis after crisis, became  _ Batman _ . It’s not like he can’t pull himself out of days like these when he’s needed.

It’s just that he can’t pull himself out of bed right now, when things are calm and the world isn’t ending. He can’t really do anything apart from listen to the sound of his own breathing. 

(He’s not really sure why it’s happening  _ now  _ when things are perfectly okay. Anything could have triggered it, really. Dick has a lot of triggers to choose from.

Maybe it was the fight with Bruce, or the way Tim still isn’t looking at him the same. Maybe it was the bad night of patrol where he’d been too slow to stop a perp from firing a gun and hitting someone on the shoulder.

Maybe it was this entire thing the Titans organized. A get together for everyone who’s ever taken the name. It wasn’t unheard of. The Titans are infamous for their parties. Dick’s been to almost all of them.

It’s just. The thought of looking at all of them. Looking at the ones there, all the pain everyone had to go through just to get to this point. 

And the ones that weren’t there. The ones the universe deemed too unimportant to bring back or worse, the ones who refuse to have anything to do with them.

Or maybe it wasn’t any of that. Maybe it was something else. Maybe he was just meant to be like this. Maybe he was just meant to be a shell, to be broken, unable to do anything, unable to even--)

A knock on his door. Dick’s eyes flicker towards it. He tries to push himself up to a sitting position, or tries to think about pushing himself into a sitting position. He can’t. He can barely keep his eyes open. He’s struggling to stay awake.

“Dick?” Donna’s gentle voice rings through the door. “Dick I’m coming in, alright?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer. Dick hears the door swing open. Donna hasn’t needed permission to enter his room since they were thirteen. She hasn’t asked for it since they were fourteen.

Donna’s light footsteps enter the room. She doesn’t comment on the mess, though Dick can tell it’s just because she’s being careful with him today. Donna always comments on the mess in his room. Unless Dick gets bad, that is. Then, she's quiet. Gentle. Careful. Like he might break. Her assumption wouldn't be wrong, either. He's broken a lot before, especially in front of her.

Dick  _ hates  _ the days he gets bad.

The bed dips to the left under Donna’s weight. Dick’s head is turned to the right. He’s working on turning towards her. It’s not going very well. Donna doesn’t seem to mind.

Strong fingers card through his hair. The tension Dick didn’t even know he was holding in his body dissipates. He leans into Donna’s touch.

“I brought some ice cream,” she says. “You up for some ice cream, Grayson? It’s peppermint.”

Dick doesn’t answer. He hates peppermint. Donna and Jason love peppermint. That’s the only reason he ever tries that kind of thing.

He’s not really been into ice cream much, anyway. He was when he was a kid but not anymore. Not since he was a teenager. It’s just one of those things that kind of fell away with time, really.

Donna keeps on talking as if nothing’s wrong.

“It’s quiet today,” she says. “Roy and Garth stopped a bank robbery this morning and that’s it. Nothing else too. They nearly lost too, mostly because they’re both sleep deprived from playing with their kids well past midnight last night like I told them not to do. It’s embarrassing.”

Dick’s lips twitch upwards. He can see it s clearly, too. He only arrived at two a.m this morning from Gotham, already drained and exhausted. Roy and Garth were still up with Lian and Cerdian, for some reason. They invited him to come play with them, full of childish glee from all side. Dick had forced a smile onto his face and said that he’s just gonna crash onto his bed and they should to if they want to function in the morning.

They just waved him away. Dick fell asleep to the sound of their laughter ringing through the tower.

“They’re outside. Kory’s still giving them shit for it. Their kids are still asleep but we both know Lian’s gonna be so mad when she finds out. Wally already promised to take a video.”

Dick hums. It’s the first sound he’s made since he’s woken up.

“He came with the twins, you know,” Donna says. “And I hear your siblings are coming over later too. That, plus our roster, all of Roy’s friends and his siblings, all your brother’s friends, even Titans West is coming and you know they never come to  _ anything _ . We’ve got a full tower today. Gar really went out of his way to get everyone here.”

Dick’s heart skips a beat. He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes falling shut for a second. He opens them again. The piece of wall he’s been staring at looks exactly the same.

“You don’t have to come out, you know,” Donna continues softly. Her hand is a warm weight on his head. “They’d get it. We can stay here and eat ice cream you hate all you want. I’ll even put on a movie for you. You don’t have to force yourself to come out if you’re not feeling up to it.”

Dick inhales steadily and lets out a shaky exhale. He wants to believe Donna, wants to think that it can be that easy but.

His heart won’t stop pounding in his chest and he can’t seem to keep his breathing in check. He grips the covers tightly and resists the urge to pull them over his head like some sort of child. He’s nearly thirty. He’s been leading the Titans for most of his life, has been a superhero for longer. He should be better than this.

(And some won’t know. Some won’t understand. There are some Titans--most, these days--who have never seen him like this. Who only knows Nightwing. Who knows Dick Grayson. They don’t know the guy right now who can’t even dig himself out of his own covers.)

Just get out of bed. He just needs to get out of bed. If he could just…

“Dick,” Donna says quietly. Her weight disappears from the bed and so does her touch against Dick’s hair. Dick wants to ask for it back. He wants to reach out. He can’t make himself move. He hears Donna shuffling around in his room until she’s in his line of sight. She kneels right in front of him, laying the tub of peppermint ice cream on the floor. She puts a hand on his cheek and looks at him with such kind eyes that Dick wants to run away from it.

It hurts, seeing someone look at him like that. It hurts especially seeing them look at him like that when he can’t even make his body move.

Dick opens his mouth. Tries to push air through his lungs and up his throat to form sounds and create words. It doesn’t work. He tries again. It still doesn’t work. Donna keeps looking at him, patient and gentle all at once.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to force out. His voice comes out hoarse, like he’d been crying. Maybe he has. 

It wouldn’t surprise him if he was.

There’s a flicker of  _ something  _ in Donna’s eyes. Dick knows all of her expressions, and he knows this one too, but he’s never understood it. It’s something she often wears around him on days like this.

Something a little sad, a little protective, incredibly fierce. It’s an expression only a person like Donna can wear; a warrior and a nurturer all at once. 

Sometimes, Dick might even call it love. Not on days like this, though. Not on days when he feels hateful and pathetic, like there is no one who can love him at all.

(Dick’s not a fool and he’s left the insecurity of childhood behind a long time ago. He knows his friends love him just as much as he loves them. He’s never doubted that. They’ve never let him doubt it.

It’s just. It’s just some days he’s trapped in a bed, head full of dark thoughts, and there’s no room for anyone’s love on those days. Only his self-hatred, his anxieties.

Something that feels a lot like grief.)

“We’re staying here,” Donna says firmly. “I’m putting on Scooby-Doo and you’re going to scoot over in that bed of yours we’re going to cuddle.”

“I hate Scooby-Doo,” Dick whispers.

“And later,” Donna says. “Later, when the kids have settled down, I’m calling the others here and they’re going to cuddle you too. We’re gonna spend the entire day locked in your room cuddling in your too small bed, eating melted ice cream, and watching cartoons like the functional adults we are.”

“Donna,” Dick says.  _ Don’t.  _ He doesn’t deserve it. And he’s not about to ruin their entire days just because he can’t get out of his bed.

Donna’s expression doesn’t change. She holds Dick’s gaze. He wants to look away but he can’t so he just lets himself be swallowed into it, lets himself settle into her touch, and lets her lead into somewhere he can’t find, draw from her strength and find his way for him.

She wraps her arms around him, laying his head on her shoulders. It’s awkward but Donna has enough strength for them both. Dick doesn’t pull away.

It’s selfish, he knows. Donna doesn’t seem to mind. She just holds him. She holds him and she doesn’t let go.

Dick closes his eyes and lets him disappear in her embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> tbh, I don't really have the time to write this but the past two weeks have been complete hell and I needed to do something relaxing and get away from the world for a while. I wrote this in like, an hour, including proofreading so yes. Sorry about that.
> 
> Come yell at me at [tumblr](https://discowlng.tumblr.com). As always, your comments are my happiness and joy <3


End file.
